


Sillage

by AnotherAspiringAuthor



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluffy Ending, Good Sibling Nancy Wheeler, Implied/Referenced Suicide, It's barely there but its there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 14:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherAspiringAuthor/pseuds/AnotherAspiringAuthor
Summary: Sillage (n.) The scent that lingers in the air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume.





	1. Chapter 1

** Sillage  ** (n.)  _ The scent that lingers in the air, the trail left in water, the impression made in space after something or someone has been and gone; the trace of someone's perfume. _

* * *

She was everywhere. In the dinosaur toy he had at his bedside, that blanket fort in the basement, the Supercom he used everyday. She was everywhere, lingering and inescapable, someone impossible to run away from even if he wanted to.

The first week was a punch to the gut. Maybe it was that old jumper he had given her, still faintly holding her smell. Maybe it was the ghost of her voice, echoing to him in the night. Sometimes it was the haunting feel of her hand in his. Whatever  it  was (and  it  was a lot of things, a constant, never ending assault on his heart), it hit hard and fast with no regard for the accompanying squeeze of his heart, breathlessness of his lungs.

The first week became the first month. The first month became harder than the first week. Physical reminders disappeared and no matter how hard he wished, that lingering smell went from his jumper, the blankets in his fort. Instead, it was the reminders that spilled from people's lips and eyes. Sympathy in the eyes of Lucas and Dustin, a hesitant curiosity from Will's lips bringing her to mind. 

One day, he corners Hopper, who seems to be avoiding him after...after...

He corners Hopper and asks, desperately, trying his best to keep his voice steady despite its crack halfway.

'Sorry kid,' He answers gruffly, not quite meeting his eyes. 'No news.' 

The police chief becomes another reminder he doesn't quite like, doesn't quite dislike. He clings onto that hope that Hopper will find her. 

The first month becomes the second. The second becomes the third, the fourth, the fifth. Still she lingers. 

Somewhere in the sixth month, something inside him breaks. Nancy hears him, when the house is empty and his door is locked and he should be alone but she knocks on his door and asks if she can come in and he can't find it in him to move, tears wracking him. 

So instead, she sits outside the door. Talks, rambles really, about everything. Her day at school, catching Steve practicing with that bat and him nearly taking the mirror out in surprise when he realized she was watching. She talks, unceasingly, and he lets the words fill him up until his shoulders stop shaking. 

When he unlocks the door, he walks into a tight hug and he fractures for a few long minutes before slowly piecing himself back together again. None of the others really understand it, but Nancy hears him out, listens to how she's everywhere, in his toys, his clothes, his friends, his school. She understands, somehow. It doesn't help but it sews him together a little tighter than he had been before and he walks on. Somehow. 

On the two hundred and seventy-eighth day, he loses hope for a few minutes. He stands at the quarry's edge and looks out at the water and has a mad idea to throw himself off one more time, to see if he can summon her up again to save him one more time. He considers throwing himself because maybe, one way or the other, he'd find her.

Steve Harrington drives past in his car and asks 'The fuck you doing here Wheeler?' He gives a response about liking to come out here every now and then and gets a free ride back to his. Somewhere between the quarry and his house, with Steve's ramblings filling an awkward silence and his flowers and bright eyes for his sister-honestly, it's disgusting how in love he is-he starts to hope again.

Every day is hard. The three hundred and fifty-third day is the hardest. 

Then the three hundred and fifty-fourth day happens (Day one, day one,  oh god she's back ) and he's putting himself back together again all too quickly. He finds that just as she comes back, he comes back.

Just like before, she's everywhere. Her smell on his clothes, her name on others lips. That light in Hopper's eyes, the bounce in his step, the constant feeling of lightness he feels (a sharp contrast to the heavy weight he's felt for three hundred and fifty three days). Everywhere.

For all the right reasons, she's seeped into every pore of his life again. 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

He was everywhere. In her immediate thoughts she carried in those brief moments within the Upside Down, on her lips as she called his name, lost and desperate and aching. He was there in the crisp, cold whiteness that covered the ground during that period of her surviving, wandering like a wild animal, reminders of the Snow Ball (whatever that really was) and his promises and soft face inescapable, even when she closed her eyes.

Especially when she closed her eyes.

The nights were the worst. Cold, harsh, dark and silent. Some nights she wished she could forget, forget that boy with the kind smile and bright eyes and warm hands that surged into her life and saved her more than he would ever understand. These thoughts were warm though, something to heat her core with when she thought about that sweet, quick press of his lips against hers that had her feeling...well, everything. So she clung onto them.

For survival, she told herself. To survive, to go onwards. She didn't really have a goal outside of that.

The first week, she thinks is the worst. It's when he's at his most potent in her mind, laughing and smiling and holding her hand through the steadily colder nights. This first week, she relearns what loneliness is.

It passes quickly, yet painstakingly slow at the same time. Soon enough, the first week becomes the first month. And then she learns, it could become much much worse. Small, tiny details she clung onto so desperately began to fade as the passage of time claimed her warmth from her. The details of his hand, those small lines that covered the soft skin of them, the individual details of his eyes. Fading.

She had learned that word, before him. Fading. She hated it with every fiber of her being now it was robbing her of him.

And then, Hopper finds her. Or she finds Hopper and allows him to find her. New clothes, 'proper' food, warmth, relative safety, _Eggos_.

But still, she couldn't see him.

One day, soon after Hopper takes her in, he arrives back at the cabin on time for once (Not home, never home, because _he_ was home now), and tells her over the table.

'He asked about you today. Wanted to know if I'd found you.' His tone, as always is gruff, to the point. She appreciated this simplicity, if not anything else.

She finds it hard to speak. Like one of those infernal (Lovely word infernal. She liked how it rolled off the tongue) tubes they put down her throat in the lab.

 'What did you say?'

His silence answers her question and she has a sudden urge to just _explode_ , to let loose the unbelievable power that thrums just under her skin, to blow that door of it's hinges and go find him, kill anyone who tried to stop her or take her away again.

'Kid...' Hopper's soft touch on her arm and gentle eyes bring her back, stop the lights in the cabin flickering, the door hinges creaking dangerously. They sit in silence for a little, while she bites her lip and tries her hardest not to let the tears in her eyes spill over.

'You can cry.' Hopper says quietly, softly, in a tone she's never heard before. She can't label it but it breaks the dam and she's sobbing, sobbing so hard, head collapsing onto the table and arms covering her head and hurting, feeling so much. Within seconds, big arms are around her holding her tight and whispering to her in that tone she can't label.

'It's okay kid...you're alright, he's alright...he looked good, looked taller and-'

She quickly tunes his words out, focusing on tone instead of content. She knows he isn't alright. She knows he's hurting and breaking just as bad as she is.

In time, she recovers. Hopper makes her a massive stack of Eggos, some hot chocolate, puts her on the couch with a blanket and cheesy soaps on. He isn't talkative like this but he listens. For the first time since _him_ , she feels like she can just talk and be understood and she starts to cross from liking Hopper to loving him for this. For stepping outside of his comfort zone to help her stitch herself back to something resembling together.

He is everywhere as time moves on into the second, third, fourth, fifth months. In her dreams, her nightmares, her waking thoughts, her food, her TV, the words she learns. He is unrelentingly persistent in how he lingers on the mind and she can't decide if she wants that to stay (it means a myriad of things she can't quite decipher yet) or wants it to leave (God, it hurts so much)

Sometime around the sixth month, boredom overtakes her and she puts that blindfold on and puts the TV on static and visits him once more.

The door comes off it's hinges the minute she sees him against his bedroom wall, arms propped on his knees, head buried in them. He's sobbing so hard, gut-wrenching noises coming from him and she's watching him break and shatter before her eyes and it kills her. Hopper shouts and draws his pistol from his holster in the kitchen area, snapping to the door with a military precision.

In the seconds between him holstering the pistol and him dragging that blindfold off her eyes, she crouches next to him, not trying to touch him but calling out to him, telling him she's sorry, so sorry and that it'll be alright and for half a stunning second, his head shoots up like he can hear her, eyes wide and jumping to his feet.

She collapses in Hopper's arms again then, crying and holding onto him impossibly tight while he tries to comfort her.

Each day gets harder after that. Watching him walk on, ever so fragile and on the verge of breaking beyond repair, it's torture. She felt sorry for him; she at least, could see him, hear him, know he was alright in the physical sense at least. All he had was hope and, even if Hopper's description on it was light, she felt herself fall a little bit more in love with his sheer determination and strength to hold onto that tiny little thing.

The two hundred and seventy-eighth day, she breaks one of the three rules. She places the blindfold on and sees him at the quarry, standing at its edge. The look on her face, it scares her. It scares her more than the bad men did, more than the demorgorgon did, breaks her up into pieces all over again. He's lost hope and he's standing on the edge and is swaying dangerously back and forth and once more that poor door is blown off its hinges and she's running, jumping over that tripwire and sprinting to try stop him before he does anything stupid.

 Fate seems to have other plans. Hopper is back at the cabin early for once, and she meets his car just as it pulls up. She briefly contemplates using her powers to lock the doors and run past him but it's too late, she's too slow and Hopper is barreling out of his seat and grabbing her around the waist.

'What the hell-' He hissed, face furious and she starts speaking before he can finish.

'Quarry, he's at the quarry, he's about to...to...' She doesn't finish that sentence, instead opting to beat against Hoppers chest. 'Please, please, please, I need to help, need to stop him, ple-'

A big hand softly covers her mouth, cutting her short. She's placed on the ground and it's a sign of how far they've come that she's doesn't send him into a tree. A solid hand is on her shoulder, steadying her.

She sees in his eyes, somehow, he understands what she's saying. There's a focus in his eyes, military almost. Situation first, feelings later was banged into him in the army, he had told her one night after an argument, somehow leading to them being closer than before.

She envied that now.

'You can't go and save him. Not this time. You...you just can't.' She nearly does send him into a tree at that and he speaks quickly as the power thrums under her skin dangerously. 'You need to visit him again. Tell me whats happening. I'll go if...' He leaves the sentence hanging in the air.

She does as he says. With a sigh of relief, a choked little noise that escapes her, she tells him she saw him get into a car and drive away with someone he seemed to know. That's just enough for her, so it's not enough for Hopper and he goes back to work, stays later than he usually does to patrol and make sure he's alright.

For once, she doesn't mind he's home late that night. Makes him hot chocolate and a triple decker Eggo extravaganza to thank him for it. He comes home and laughs a little, ruffles her hair and gives her a big bear hug and takes his victory meal to the couch. She can't help but retreat to her room and visit him again. She stays all night, drinking him in, confirming to herself that he didn't do  _it_ and that he's alright. 

The days leading up to and including the three hundred and fifty-third day are among the hardest of her life.

But the three hundred and fifty-fourth day is one of the best of her life. She's exhausted, she's emotionally and physically drained from so much pain and worry and anger. But when she comes back, she sees him come back at the same time. Something in his eyes kicked alive again, his smile wider than she'd seen in a near year.

On the three hundred and fifty-fourth day, he is everywhere. Name on her lips, hand in her own, leg intertwined with her own, his jumper back on her, his friends (now her friends as well) around them while they sleep and recover and heal.

He blinks awake wondrously on the floor of the Byer's house that morning, like he can't believe she's real and she kisses him, soft and gentle and sweet and while it's quick, she's been wanting to do that since she disappeared into the Upside Down. Shortly enough, he's sleeping again, small, content smile on his face.

For all the right reasons, he's incomprehensibly attached within her life again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any constructive criticism is greatly welcome, as usual. This was longer than I anticipated and I wrote this at five in the morning when I couldn't sleep so any grammar/spelling mistakes should be fixed soon. If anyone has any suggestions to add to this or for other one shots or short stories, please let me know!

**Author's Note:**

> First go at writing for this fandom. Any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated and thanks for reading!


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